


the actor fell silent

by Cronomon



Category: Kagerou Project, Mekakucity Actors
Genre: AU where ayano moves in with takane and drama happens, Alternate Universe, F/F, Yuukei Quartet - Freeform, shintaro is kind of like a love guru or something, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cronomon/pseuds/Cronomon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Am I just a replacement for Haruka to you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	the actor fell silent

**Author's Note:**

> Well this turned out much longer than I expected it to. But I mean... You can never have too much AyaTaka, really.
> 
> The idea of "Haruka lives with Takane, Haruka dies, Ayano moves in, wham line" originated from tumblr user senkounomaihime, who was kind enough to let me use it to create this fic! Additionally, the second video game scene was inspired by tumblr user ayanotateyuri, who also gave me permission to use his headcanon. I am very grateful to these two for letting me use their ideas for this story!
> 
> And so, with that said, I hope you enjoy!

It was Ayano’s idea to get Haruka to move in with Takane.

Takane had almost spat out her coffee when she brought it up.

“Oh, why not?” Ayano said, eyes glowing the way it did whenever she came up with a new mission to follow through. “You like him, he likes you, that was established when you guys started dating like, eight million years ago.”

“Two years. It’s been two years,” Takane growled back. Her ears burned as she attempted to mop up the spilled drink, trying to ignore how everyone in the cafe was most definitely staring at her with those judging eyes.

Ayano grabbed some paper napkins to help. “Besides, you know he hates how he still has to live with his parents,” she added before taking the liberty to gather the coffee-soaked wads and throw them away.

“That’s only because they keep on babying him-.”

“Even though he’s an adult and is capable of handling his sickness on his own. I know. But listen, don’t you think that makes it an even better idea that he move in with you?”

Takane shrugged, eyes cast downward and fixated on the half-empty cup in her hands. Naturally, Ayano took it as a cue to continue.

“You guys will be living the dream, and his parents will be content knowing that there’s someone reliable keeping an eye on him. Everyone wins!”

A snort. “You know his parents hardly think I’m the most reliable person around.”

“But Takane-.”

“They _hate_ me.”

There was silence on the other end for a long time, and Takane almost felt bad for her pessimism because she knew her friend had only been trying to help, but still, the whole thing was way too embarrassing, and what if Haruka didn’t want to move in with her, what if he laughed at her for suggesting something like that, what if he decided he didn’t want to be with her anymore, what if--

“Takane,” Ayano’s voice broke through, gently, softly, and when Takane looked up again there was only compassion in those deep, brown eyes. “You want this, don’t you?”

Takane was ashamed to see a smile filled with such affection aimed towards her.

“I do,” she muttered.

“Just try it?”

“... I’ll try.”

The smile turned into a grin, and Ayano clapped her hands together with a cheer. “Great! And anyway, if you get rejected I’ll be right here to comfort you~”

Takane spluttered. “Wha-? Ayano! What kinda pep talk is that supposed to be?”

\---

The next day, when he stopped by to play video games as usual, she brought it up.

Haruka paused the game and turned to her, eyes were shining like she’d just offered him a lifetime supply of buffet tickets. “You’d really do that for me?” His voice practically overflowed with hope.

Her heart thumped in a stupidly cliché way (but fuck it she was his girlfriend it wasn’t weird or anything if after two years he still made her face red and her tongue tied and shut up)

“W-well, yeah, duh,” Takane stammered out. His smile widened. She looked away because god knew what would happen if she let herself keep looking at him when he grinned like that. “A-anyway, it’s only if you want to! And since we’re… dating now and everything it should be fine if we live together, right?”

“Right!” Haruka agreed brightly.

Takane thought that’d be it and he would resume the game but after a few moments of very obvious not-game-playing she turned back to him. His gaze had turned to the ceiling, eyes half-closed the way they did when he was daydreaming. She watched him. How his mouth dropped slightly open, how his grip on the game controller loosened until it almost fell out of his hands. She looked at the messy ball of black fluff he called hair, resisting the urge to reach out and ruffle it into an even more tangled mass. She saw his milky skin, so pale from months spent at the hospital, and yet seeming to illuminate his very presence, radiating warmth and reliability and comfort.

 _My boyfriend_ , she thought, somehow still unable to believe it, unable to fathom how someone so kind and perfect and wonderful could ever agree to be with her (and still be with her after so long) and she smiled.

“Takane,” he said, finally turning to look at her again. “I think it’d be really fun. We could play games every day, and eat all our meals together, and when you come back from work I’d get to say ‘welcome home’, and we could watch TV together, and cuddle in bed, and everything!”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “we could.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she responded with a gentle headbutt.

“I love you, Takane.”

“That’s lame. Haruka, you’re lame.”

\---

Haruka moved in shortly afterwards.

A few months later, he collapsed while Takane was at work and died after lying unconscious in the hospital for four hours.

\---

Takane had had her phone on silent when it happened.

She’d checked it after her shift was over, and listened to Ayano’s voicemail telling her to get to the hospital as soon as possible, and she’d run as fast as she could, faster than she’d ever run before with her body and her condition, as though the world was ending and the earth was falling apart behind her, and she’d arrived just in time to hear the announcement of his death.

_it’s my fault_

\---

Takane couldn’t remember what happened afterwards.

Silence. Darkness. Disbelief, numbness, an aching, gaping void that was threatening to swallow her whole and never let her out again.

Loss. Confusion. Pain.

_it’s all my fault_

Emptiness.

But sometimes she also caught the faded memory of a crimson scarf and fluttering touches, soft words, delicate fingers stroking her hair as a voice whispered to her that it would be okay, that everything would be okay someday.

She dismissed it because things would never be that way again.

\---

Two weeks after Haruka’s funeral, Ayano called asking if she could move in.

“I’ll pay half the rent. I’ll clean and cook and everything. I can sleep on the couch. I won’t be a bother. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

Takane wasn’t alright.

_he hates me_

But it didn’t matter anyway.

Four days later, Ayano was sitting across from her at the dinner table, eating quietly like she’d been there all along.

\---

In her dreams she was always running.

 _Faster, faster_ , the voice in her headphones told her, and even when she thought she’d reached her limit she would force another burst of speed.

She crossed a bridge that broke apart with every step she took.

The roads behind her cracked and crumbled.

People were screaming.

_you’ll regret it if you slow down_

_just a little further_

_hurry_

She always got there just in time to see him die.

\---

Ayano was true to her word, at least.

She never asked stupid questions like why Takane spent all day in bed, or when she was planning to go back to work (not that it mattered since she’d been fired from the game shop after not showing up for two weeks with no forewarning)

If anything, Ayano was like a babysitter. She called Takane out when the meals were ready and cleaned up after her without a word. Sure, she lived in the apartment and slept on the couch, but she kept the area so clean and her presence so small that Takane sometimes forgot she was there.

Not that it made a difference.

Takane only ever left her room to eat and use the bathroom.

It would’ve been embarrassing having her high school underclassman take care of her like that, if Takane had bothered to care at all.

\---

_keep running_

“Why am I running? Where am I going?”

_just get there_

_just hurry_

_just run_

So she ran.

\---

The only shitty part about having Ayano stay with her was how often Shintaro came to visit.

Not that Takane ever actually saw him. But she could hear his stupid voice from outside her room, talking to Ayano, always asking if she was okay, if she was sure she wanted to be here, in that stupid dishonest way of his.

_If Ayano’s okay? As if I asked to be her new charity case!_

And then Takane would bury herself under the covers because how she could think such a terrible thing about her friend who, as she always had since high school, only wanted to help, was only trying to take care of useless, incompetent Takane in her selfless manner with her selfless actions.

Ayano was always helping her with everything.

And then, as usual, Ayano would deflect his concerns, casually turning the conversation back on him, practically manipulating the talk until it was just Shintaro spilling out his life’s recent events while Ayano poured tea and nodded patiently.

\---

The actor in her headphones never let her stop.

Sometimes she wondered what would happen if she slowed down, if the apocalypse caught up to her, if she let the ground beneath her break so she fell and fell and watched her world get smaller and smaller and so utterly insignificant she could barely see it anymore.

She wondered what was under there, and if she would ever be able to climb out again.

She wondered which was the escape.

\---

“What was Haruka’s favorite food?” Ayano asked once over lunch.

She’d been living with Takane for a little over a month, and though she had tried to make conversation before, it was the first time she’d brought up Haruka.

Takane instinctively stiffened.

“I was thinking that I could make it sometime,” she continued in an offhanded tone. “We haven’t gone to visit his grave yet.”

_We?_

“He must be getting lonely.”

_What would you know?_

“I’m sure he misses you.”

Takane stood up abruptly and went back to her room.

\---

She ate her meals alone from then on.

\---

“Takane? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

_You did it anyway._

“I shouldn’t have said such selfish things. It’s my fault.”

_I already know that._

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

_How?_

“Just please… Will you come out again?”

She flung her pillow at the door.

The questions stopped.

\---

The actor had turned into static in her ears, but she kept running anyways.

\---

“You’re so fucking selfish, you know that?”

Takane didn’t respond.

“Ayano’s been trying her best to help you every day -- she sleeps on the fucking couch for Christ’s sake! -- and now you won’t even take the time to eat with her? Before he died you couldn’t stop talking about him but as soon as she brings him up again you shut yourself up like some goddamn NEET.”

“Like you’re one to talk!” she snapped back, refusing to turn around and grace him by looking in his eyes. “What do you know anyway? You’re a third party contributor here, no one fucking wants you around.”

Shintaro tried to step around her but she blocked him away again.

“What do I know?” he growled mockingly. “I know Haruka wouldn’t want you treating your friends like shit and relying on your kouhai like she’s your mom.”

“As if you could possibly know what he would want-.”

“ _He was my friend too, Takane_.” His voice had risen into a shout, and Takane had to steel herself to keep from flinching. It was rare to see Shintaro so angry, but when he was it was a force to be reckoned with.

She chose to stay quiet again, gripping the fabric of her pants so tightly her knuckles whitened and her fists trembled. Her vision blurred and she blinked rapidly to clear it.

“You’re not the only person who misses him,” he said lowly. “ So get over yourself.”

Even when the door slammed shut behind him Takane didn’t move.

Ayano returned from her supply trip half an hour later, blissfully unaware of the visit her childhood friend had paid. She found Takane still standing in the middle of the living area, shaking and silent.

Ayano gently pried her hands open and led her back to her room.

\---

In the dreams where the world wasn’t ending, she could hear his voice.

_Why didn’t you pick up?_

She floated in the void, listening.

_If you’d gotten there on time maybe things would’ve been different._

She couldn’t answer.

_Maybe I could have opened my eyes and said, “Welcome back.”_

\---

“He liked barbecue the best,” Takane told her the next morning before popping a piece of fried egg into her mouth.

Ayano smiled. “I’ll pick some up tomorrow.”

\---

A big dinner was prepared that night.

Ayano was in a good mood again. Takane, seated at the table, watched her cook for once. She was humming absentmindedly, chopping vegetables, stirring sauces, garnishing soup. Takane found herself marveling at the ease with which Ayano moved around the kitchen, everywhere at once and still tending to the individual needs of each dish.

“You’re a better cook than Haruka,” Takane stated without meeting her eyes. “He liked eating more than making.”

“I have three little siblings and a dad who works too hard to remember that food is a necessity,” Ayano responded. “It worked out this way.”

“Ah. Lucky me.”

Silence again as Ayano’s attention was grabbed by the sizzling sound of frying meat. Takane considered helping and then quickly decided she would be more nuisance than assistance. She set the table instead.

“Hey, Ayano?”

“Hm?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ayano was turned away, plating the food, but the sincerity in her voice was unmistakable. Takane could practically hear her smile.

She leaned back, wondering if she should be satisfied with just that.

She wasn’t.

“And thanks. For… you know. Helping me. And everything.”

“Takane.”

“Really.”

“Takane.” Ayano was in front of her now, and since Takane was still sitting down she had to crane her head back to look at her face. The younger woman’s lips were covered by her scarf but the affection in her eyes spoke enough.

Takane felt another pang of guilt. _Don’t look at me like that when I haven’t even made it up to you yet._

“Takane,” Ayano said again, quietly this time, and she put a hand on Takane’s head, thumb gently brushing her bangs. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

She kissed Takane’s brow and went back to serve the dishes.

They ate in silence as usual, but the tension had left, and there was only companionship in its place.

\---

They visited his grave that weekend.

While Ayano set out the food, Takane put down the bouquet of flowers they’d bought on the way there. Her gaze lingered on the other gifts surrounding the stone -- a card, probably from Momo; piles of plates filled with all sorts of cuisines, courtesy of Hibiya most likely; flowers, the default everyone had brought.

“I guess we’re a little late,” she commented, unsure who she was even addressing.

Ayano didn’t reply regardless. She finished with the rest of the dishes, and then she and Takane crouched before the grave and clasped their hands together. When Ayano was done, she backed away.

Takane remained. She eyed the picture of the smiling man in front of her.

“Sorry it took so long,” she said.

He kept smiling.

“It’s been really shitty without you. That’s my fault though. Sorry to disappoint.”

A pause.

“Sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.” She swallowed. “It must have been scary. Sorry I keep screwing up. Sorry I keep making a mess. Sorry for everything.”

She ducked her head.

“I miss you. But even though I keep running I can never reach you. And… when I stop running things just get worse, you know? So… starting now I’m gonna have to run past you and see where it goes from there. I know it sounds kinda dumb, but a certain stupid underclassman of ours recently gave me some not-shitty advice so… I guess I’ll try it out.”

Was it just her or did the sun start shining a little brighter?

“Your lameness must be rubbing off on me.” A lopsided smile. “I’ll manage, so don’t worry, okay? I have to repay our underclassmen for helping me out. I’ll visit you a lot more, too. Oh, and I brought something for you.”

She lay down her pair of silver headphones.

The actor had been silent lately, and the world had continued to exist.

“So you don’t get bored in the meantime,” she told him. “Thanks for having me, Haruka.”

She stood up.

“I love you. You lame dork.”

\---

They got ice cream on the way back.

Ayano stole a bite from Takane’s cup, and Takane retaliated by eating the rest of Ayano’s.

For the first time in a while, things felt sort of okay again.

\---

Takane was lying on the couch flipping through job advertisements when her foot accidentally kicked off the folded blanket that had been sitting on the other end. By the time she put down the newspaper to crawl over and retrieve it, Ayano had already picked it up, dusted it off with a few swats, and set it down on the coffee table.

Takane blinked. “My bad… Thanks for the help.”

“No worries,” Ayano waved off her apology and sat down next to her. “I shouldn’t have left it where it would get in the way.”

“Oh… That’s your blanket.” Takane mentally cringed at her statement of the obvious.

Ayano only giggled and nodded. “I live here, too, you know,” she added after a moment.

“I know.” Takane stared at the blanket, and then back at Ayano, and then back to the blanket again. There was something she was forgetting… And then it clicked. She turned back to Ayano, eyes wide. “You sleep on the couch!” she exclaimed.

“Thanks for noticing,” Ayano sniggered.

“But like… You’ve been doing it the whole time you’ve been here,” Takane ran a hand through her hair, trying to remember just how long Ayano had been staying with her. One month? Two? “Shit, I’m the worst upperclassman ever. This isn’t even a good couch.”

“Aw, don’t say that, you’ll hurt its feelings.” Ayano bobbed her head side to side. “Besides, I’ve grown pretty fond of it.” Her gaze flicked back to Takane’s horrified expression and she promptly clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “It’s not that bad, Takane, really. Stop looking at me like that.”

“But you’re sleeping on the couch!”

Ayano frowned. “You sound like Shintaro now. Sleeping on a couch isn’t gonna kill me, you know.”

“Let’s trade,” Takane decided.

“What?”

“You can sleep on the bed for a while and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Takane, no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Takane pouted. “Why not? I’m trying to do good here, Ayano.”

“And I appreciate that,” Ayano replied patiently, “but the fact is this is your apartment, and I’m the one intruding, and besides, you’re sick-.”

“Okay, my sickness is literally just me falling asleep everywhere, and I’ve been taking meds for that for years now-.”

“But still, it’s better for you to sleep on an actual bed. I’m not going to argue about this with you.”

There was an air of finality in Ayano’s voice, and she fixed Takane with a very big-sisterly glare that said clearly and precisely ‘do not fuck with me’. Takane tried to ignore the shiver that rolled down her spine.

She hid her face behind her newspaper. “Fine…”

She didn’t have to peek over to visualize the triumphant smirk on Ayano’s face.

\---

In all honesty, Takane had half-expected Ayano to leave.

After all, Takane was better, and she could feel her life regaining some sort of normalcy every morning when she woke up and ate breakfast with Ayano and played video games and watched TV and wasted the day much more progressively than she had been doing before. That was what Ayano had wanted, wasn’t it?

She even made a point to be more civil towards Shintaro when he stopped by for his weekly visit.

“Still making her sleep on the couch, I see,” he grunted when Ayano excused herself to go to the bathroom.

“I told her we could trade, she’s the one who didn’t want anything to do with it,” she retorted.

Shintaro shrugged. “That’s just the kinda weirdo she is.”

“Word.”

“Try harder.”

“Fuck you.”

Another month later, Ayano was still there, cooking breakfast and waking Takane up every morning to eat and get ready. Takane had found a job at a different game store (pessimistic and grumpy though she was, none could deny her gaming skills) and with that settled, Ayano returned to her job as an elementary school teacher.

Most of the week, after her day was over, Takane would text Ayano not to bother cooking and then buy takeout for the two of them. On weekends, Ayano usually prepared every meal by hand. Sometimes they talked while they ate, going over their respective days. Sometimes they just watched TV.

Neither of them had questioned this lifestyle yet, and Takane didn’t want to be the first to.

 _Don’t ruin something good while you still have it_ , she figured, and then took out her phone to ask Ayano what she wanted for dinner.

\---

Once in a while Takane tried to get Ayano to game with her.

It never lasted very long, mostly because Ayano’s character usually died within a minute.

“It’s the same with everyone when they’re first starting out,” Takane tried to tell her. “Haruka sucked in the beginning too. The only reason I got like this is because I stayed up all night playing instead of studying in high school. Here, I can help you practice.”

Sometimes Ayano would entertain her and go along with it, but most of the time she would politely decline and opt to sit back and watch Takane play on her own. “I have more fun watching anyway,” she assured her, and because it was probably easier for both of them that way, Takane didn’t object.

“We can do something else, if you want,” Takane said after she realized that Ayano had been sitting next to her watching her shoot zombies into oblivion for the past three hours.

Ayano shook her head. “I like this.”

Takane was too busy fighting through the next level to reply, and Ayano didn’t seem to mind, but halfway into it, when there was a split second break from the onslaught of enemies, she moved her leg closer to Ayano’s just in case.

\---

“Ayano, sit down, we’re watching a movie.”

Her friend looked up from the pile of papers before her, blinking in surprise.

“What?”

“Movie. Come. Sit.” Takane patted the space on the couch next to her to emphasize her point.

Ayano slumped down onto the table, scattering a few files as she did so, and protested, “But I’m working.”

“You’re a grade-school teacher and it’s Friday night,” Takane replied scornfully. “Live a little. Besides, it’s your favorite, _Godfather 2_.”

“That’s your favorite.”

“Yes, and it is an excellent movie that deserves my best friend’s attention. Now come. I’m not gonna ask again.”

Ayano stood up slowly, purposely screeching the chair back in a drawn-out motion, and made her way over to the couch. She came up behind Takane, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her dramatically. “Takaneeeee, why can’t we watch, like, _The Lego Movie_. I like _The Lego Movie_. Let’s watch that.”

Without missing a beat, Takane grabbed Ayano’s scarf and pulled her down, tilting her own head back so she could look at her friend in the eye and shoot down her hopes and dreams. “No. I’m a selfish bitch so we’re watching what I want to watch.”

Something seemed to spark in Ayano’s eyes and she leaned in closer. “I don’t get a say in it at all?” she asked quietly, her voice lilted into a slight whine, breath soft on Takane’s face.

Takane felt her cheeks burning and blamed it on blood rush and weirdly close proximity. She let go of Ayano’s scarf and turned back to the television. “None,” she answered, dying a little inside when her voice cracked.

To her relief, Ayano didn’t push any further. Instead, she sat down next to Takane, scooting closer so that their legs were touching and their shoulders brushed. Takane nudged her playfully as the movie began, and Ayano kicked her ankle in response. Takane jabbed a hand into Ayano’s side and quickly covered her mouth to muffle the yelp that would inevitably burst out.

“Shut up, the movie’s starting,” she mock-grumbled, and released her hold.

Forty minutes later, Ayano must’ve gotten bored, because she dropped her head onto Takane’s shoulder and stared at the screen with half-closed eyes.

Takane tried to pretend she was still focused on the movie.

\---

As awesome as video games were, working in an actual video game shop kind of sucked sometimes.

For one thing, just because she was a girl, none of the customers ever wanted to actually talk to her.

“Is there a male worker I could ask for help from instead?” they questioned before even trying to get any answers from her.

_Sure, dickhead, but any of them can tell you I’m the best qualified for it._

For another, she actually privately liked that they avoided her, since she was awful with people and even worse at trying to politely and patiently guide them through any issues.

The combination of these two problems resulted in zero positive customer reviews and long, uneventful hours at the shop. Reflecting on it, probably the only thing that kept her from getting fired was her undeniable knowledge and skill with consoles and games alike.

It didn’t help the repetitive bore of each day though.

But then again. She had to admit she kind of liked coming home every day with a bag full of takeout in her hands to the cheerful voice that always greeted her as soon as she opened the door.

\---

“She’s still on the couch?” Shintaro sounded more disappointed than angry this time.

Takane’s eye twitched. “Okay, why are you so obsessed with this couch thing, anyway?”

“Why are you not?” he muttered.

\---

Over time, Takane found what she believed to be the perfect solution.

“Ayano, we’re having a sleepover tonight,” she declared the moment she’d changed into her pajamas.

Ayano, who had been in the midst of preparing the couch for sleeping, stopped and stared at her blankly. “Is that not what we’ve been doing for the past five months?” she asked.

“I mean in my room. My bedroom. Sleepover. In my bed.” Takane cranked out the phrases as though they were a list being fed to her.

A sly grin crept onto Ayano’s face and Takane instantly found herself regretting her choice of words.

“Why, Takane Enomoto,” Ayano drawled, slinking up to the furiously-blushing woman.

“Shut up.”

Ayano slung her arms around Takane’s neck, batting her lashes prettily.

“Are you…”

“No, shut up.” Takane struggled feebly.

“ _Inviting me into your bed_?”

She whispered the last part into her ear, lips just barely grazing skin, and for about three seconds Takane’s mind shut down and all she could hear was the blood pounding in her head and her vision went fuzzy and her mind raced and she realized dimly and very coherently,

_Ayano’s face is like super close to mine._

Takane jerked back and glared at her. Ayano smiled innocently.

“I. Yeah. ‘Cause. Sleepover.” Takane shot back smoothly.

Ayano brightened and detached herself in an instant. “Sweet! I’ll get my stuff and meet you there.”

“... Okay.”

\---

Apparently, “stuff” meant makeup and nail polish and all other sorts of decorations Takane had never bothered with in her life.

“You said sleepover,” Ayano pointed out as she spread the items out on the bed. “This is what I like to do during sleepovers.”

“I’m not putting this stuff on my face before I sleep.”

“That’s okay, I can put it on for you.”

Takane crossed her arms in an X shape.

“Absolutely not.”

“But-.”

Her eyebrows knit together and she puffed her cheeks out. “I’m not going to argue about this with you.”

Ayano stared for a few seconds, her hand frozen on a tube of lipstick and her eyes wide in shock. Takane had a brief moment of fear where she thought she’d crossed a line, but it quickly vanished when Ayano proceeded to roll around the bed roaring with laughter.

“I do not look like that!” she gasped in between bouts. “Takane, that was _mean_.”

“You totally look like that.” Takane grinned and stretched out a leg, poking her with her foot.

“That’s gross.”

“You’re gross.”

To her credit, Ayano agreed not to force any makeup. The supplies were cleared away and Takane could once again sprawl out in peace. Ayano quickly dove under the covers and buried her face in one of Takane’s pillows.

“Ah~ I almost forgot how comfy a bed can be,” she sighed, hugging the pillow tightly.

Takane rolled her eyes and joined Ayano under the covers, lying down on her side to face her. “That’s your own fault for being so stubborn about the couch,” she retorted.

“Hmm maybe.”

“More like, definitely.” Ayano laughed, and Takane couldn’t help but smile herself.

_She’s laughing because of me. I can make her smile._

“Takane?”

“Hm?”

“You know what else I like to do during sleepovers?”

Takane let out a fake groan, shifting herself into a more comfortable position. “Do I want to know?”

“Of course you do. You’d love to know everything about me.”

“Hmm maybe.”

Ayano stuck out her tongue. “ _Anyway_ ,” she went on, “during sleepovers, I think it is quintessential to share our deepest, darkest secrets with each other. Preferably with the lights off. It makes the emotional bonding more serious.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

With her body curled up on the bed and her long hair draped over the pillows and her face half-covered by her scarf and her eyes gleaming with a challenge, Takane thought she looked more adorable than anything.

Or just plain beautiful.

But fuck if she was gonna say that.

“Fine, let’s do it,” Takane relented. “I already shot down your makeup idea so I guess I owe you one anyway.” She reached over to her nightstand to turn off the lamp, and darkness immediately flooded the room. A few stray beams from the lights of the night city peeked through the blinds regardless, allowing Takane to make out the outline of her friend beside her. “Happy?”

The red of her scarf reflected in her eyes, warm and caring despite the unnatural color, and Takane saw her give the slightest of nods.

“Yeah. I’m happy.”

\---

They talked for a while.

Takane didn’t know how long exactly. Time seemed to slow down in the dark.

As for what they talked about… Takane felt she shouldn’t linger. They’d been words exchanged in the privacy of the night, huddled beneath blankets and surrounded by pillows, whispered in confidence that they would never be uttered to the listener again. Words of the past, words of childhood and tragedies and hope and strength.

They’d been words meant for those hours, and those hours only.

The next evening, Takane took Ayano’s hand and pulled her to her bed again.

The evening after that, Ayano seemed to get the hint and went to the bed herself.

\---

“No more couch sleeping,” Takane reported the next time Shintaro visited, chest puffing up with pride.

He nodded slowly, not looking very impressed.

Takane frowned. “Well, don’t go getting too excited there, dude.”

He only shook his head, his face actually having the nerve to look even more hassled as he rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long sigh. Takane arched an eyebrow and exchanged a confused glance with Ayano. Finally, Shintaro folded his arms against his chest, nodded once, and clapped a hand on Takane’s shoulder, looking into her eyes seriously.

“Treat her well. Know that I trust you, albeit grudgingly, and that I will not hesitate to hurt you should anything happen to her.” Shintaro then turned to Ayano, oblivious to the discomfort he’d inflicted upon his upperclassman. “And you. Remember, consent is always necessary, and don’t try anything weird-.”

Ayano shoved a hand into his face to shut him up. “Just stop talking, Shintaro.”

\---

“If anything, this is just bed sharing!” Takane declared that night, reclined on a pile of pillows and staring up at a ceiling she couldn’t see.

Ayano stirred, and Takane felt a prick of guilt at waking her up when she’d just drifted off, but hell, this was important.

“S’bed sharing,” Ayano agreed sleepily, cuddling closer to Takane’s side.

Takane moved her arm to let Ayano fit more comfortably.

“Platonic bed sharing,” she felt compelled to add.

“Platonic,” Ayano repeated.

“I mean, just what the hell does he think he’s saying? I wouldn’t try anything on you. I wouldn’t hurt you. We’re not even dating! You’ve just been living with me this whole time, and he still doesn’t trust me? What a jerk!”

“Mm.”

“Like, I get that he’d be protective of you since he’s basically your boyfriend and all-.”

“Not m’boyfriend,” Ayano objected, words muffled from pressing her face against Takane’s torso.

“But basically.”

“No.”

“But-.”

Takane’s protest was cut off when Ayano pressed her lips against hers. Her voice died in her throat and only a very dignified squeak made it out. After a few seconds Ayano flopped back down, snuggling deep into the covers.

“Not m’boyfriend. Go to sleep, Takane.” A long yawn followed her words and not a minute later her breathing had slowed and she was once again fast asleep.

\---

Things proceeded normally when she woke up the next morning. So normal that Takane wasn’t even sure why she’d been expecting anything else.

Ayano got up and made breakfast as usual. Takane dragged herself out of bed midway through Ayano’s preparations to say good morning and set the table. Ayano served the dishes and they ate while watching the local news. Indeed, Ayano didn’t seem to be acting any differently, and Takane began to wonder if the other woman had even been fully conscious during the kiss the previous night.

“Do you want me to cook tonight or just get takeout?” Ayano asked as she put the plates in the sink, the same question as every other weekend morning.

Takane glanced over, glad to have a distraction from the anchormen’s mind numbing discussion about parks, and flipped onto her knees so that her arms rested on the back of the couch and she was properly facing Ayano. “Are you going somewhere today?”

“I told Tsubomi I would visit her and Momo’s new place this weekend.”

“Oh. Cool. I’ll just get takeout then. You can spend more time with them that way, right?”

Ayano beamed at her from across the room. “Aw, how considerate,” she teased. “You’d really do that for me?”

A memory tickled from the back of her mind and a flash of messy black hair and cheerful gray eyes blinked before her. She drew in a sharp breath and held it. Ayano called her name, confused by her lack of response, and she exhaled slowly, wondering why she would even react like that.

“Are you okay?” Ayano had left the sink and was now approaching her, concern evident.

Takane nodded, waving her hands wildly to dismiss the case. “Yeah, I’m fine. My bad. Sorry.”

“What happened?”

“I just… I thought of Haruka for a sec. I dunno, it’s weird that I spaced out like that. Um.” She laughed nervously. “You just… reminded me of him when you said that, I guess. Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Ayano cocked her head to one side curiously. “I reminded you of him?”

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s weird, don’t worry about it.”

Ayano still didn’t look convinced so Takane plastered on a grin and tried to return the conversation to its original topic.

“You can totally spend as much time as you want with Kido and the little sister,” she said encouragingly. “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll go get some food at the usual place. Sound good?”

“Sounds fine,” Ayano agreed, but there was a strange look in her eyes, and her lips were pressed together almost unhappily.

She took a step forward so that she was right behind the couch, looking down directly into Takane’s eyes. If Takane hadn’t known any better she probably would’ve been intimidated. But this was Ayano, known to have the same ferocity levels as a kitten. She couldn’t hurt a fly even if she wanted to.

Before Takane could think any further, Ayano leaned down and kissed her, more forcefully than she had last night. A hand reached down to press against the back of Takane’s head, and when Takane opened her mouth (to breathe? to speak?) she was only vaguely surprised to find Ayano’s tongue suddenly intermingling with her own. She kissed back, mostly unsure what else to do.

Ayano ended it when she pulled away slowly, and Takane didn’t protest. There was a steady beat of silence, and then Ayano touched her forehead against Takane’s, and stared at her levelly.

“Did that remind you of Haruka?” her underclassman questioned, eyes gleaming at the challenge before her.

Takane wasn’t one to lie. “Not really,” she answered, and grabbed Ayano’s scarf to pull her in again.

\---

Takane realized very quickly that she had no idea what she was doing.

Her memory was a haze, and next thing she knew she was lying flat on her back, her hands constantly switching from cupping Ayano’s face to running her fingers through her long, silky hair. If Ayano minded the indecisiveness she didn’t show it - she kissed hungrily, one hand behind Takane’s neck, thumb stroking her jaw, while the other slipped under her shirt.

Somewhere in the back of Takane’s mind she reasoned that it was convenient that they were both still in their pajamas. That inkling of a thought vanished when her shirt was pulled completely up and Ayano left a trail of kisses along her stomach and between her breasts. A hand drifted down between her legs, fingers pressing lightly despite the fabric of Takane’s sweatpants, and Takane shut her eyes with a soft moan. Ayano seemed encouraged by this, and she left a gentle kiss on Takane’s neck before using her whole hand to engage in a full on rubbing motion.

Another moan, deeper and louder, sounded from her throat, and suddenly Ayano’s lips were on hers again, teeth scraping her tongue, and her hand had reached into her pants, crawled under her panties, and the rubbing started again, faster than before, and she wanted to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from crying out but it was kind of hard with Ayano right there.

Fingers thrust in and out, Ayano’s wrist flicking with ease, quicker and quicker each time. Takane gave up on trying to be quiet.

“Ayano --  _fuck_.”

She entered the haze again, and later, when she finally opened her eyes, Ayano was kissing her, her lips, her face, her neck, her breasts, looking more content than Takane had ever seen her before.

\---

“Seems kinda like you’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Takane mentioned as she changed into a clean set of clothes.

Ayano hid a smile behind her scarf and replied lightly, “I might’ve been.”

\---

Takane was the first one to give a good night kiss, after spending nearly twenty minutes trying to muster up the courage. As soon as she’d done it she’d flipped around, convinced that otherwise Ayano would see her face glowing red in the dark.

The next day, when Takane arrived home from work, Ayano greeted her as usual, took the bag of takeout from her hands, and kissed her with a shy smile.

Neither of them talked about it, or what it meant, if it meant anything. But Takane felt a new warmth in her chest when she looked at Ayano, and somehow happier, nearing even the level she hadn’t thought possible for her to achieve again.

“Thanks,” she whispered one night, when she was sure the other woman was asleep, arm tightening protectively around Ayano’s body.

Maybe unconsciously, maybe not, Ayano moved closer.

\---

Takane pushed Ayano onto the couch and tossed a game controller at her.

Ayano flinched, caught it somehow, fumbled with it for a bit, and then frowned. “Takane, it’s a school night-.”

“Sh.” Takane held up a hand. “No arguing. We’re playing.”

“But-.”

“I didn’t pull all the connections I have to get this game before its official release just to have you protest playing it because of school.” Takane opened the case, smiling broadly when she saw the pristine disc inside shining back at her. She turned it to face Ayano. “Just look at that face and tell me you can’t resist.”

Ayano arched an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching as she tried to suppress a smile. “You’re so weird.”

“Nyeh,” Takane retorted, and inserted the disc into the console. She turned on the TV and plopped down next to Ayano, elbowing her good-naturedly and grimacing when Ayano stepped on her foot in response.

“What is this game about?” Ayano asked as the opening began.

“It’s a shooter game. You’ve played similar stuff before.”

If Takane had been looking she would’ve seen the mischievous glint in Ayano’s eyes as she mused, “A shooter game, huh…”

\---

“THE FATE OF THE WORLD LIES ON THIS MISSION!”

“Ayano-.”

“STAY STRONG. DO NOT FALTER. SHOOT STRAIGHT AND WE WILL TRIUMPH.”

“Ayano, calm down-.”

“REMEMBER, MEN -- DEATH IS NOT THE END!”

“Jesus Christ…”

“SECURE THE PERIMETER! WE CANNOT AFFORD TO LOSE!”

Ayano’s character ran in circles on the screen, shooting blindly. Takane covered her face with a hand.

An enemy shot was fired at Takane while she was distracted, but just then Ayano happened to run in front of her and take the shot.

“I’M HIT! I’M HIT! MAN DOWN!” Ayano yelled.

Takane clenched a fist dramatically. “Commander… No. Ayano, why?! Why would you do that for someone like me?”

“Because,” Ayano collapsed onto Takane’s lap, gasping erratically and reaching out a hand, “you were always my one, true love.” She cracked a smile. “I would die for you a thousand times over.”

Her arm thudded against her side and her eyes closed. Her chest heaved as she took one last shuddering breath, and then her body fell limp.

“NOOOOOOO!” Takane cried to the endless night sky.

\---

“Well, I thought that was fun.” Ayano sat up with a grin.

Takane rolled her eyes. “You’re a nerd.”

“A nerd who loves you.”

“That’s lame. Shut up. You’re so lame.”

\---

The following day, whenever any of her coworkers asked her why she was spacing out so much, Takane would react even more explosively than usual, defending herself with sharp words and then marching off to reorganize the shelves for the sixth time in an hour.

She definitely wasn’t thinking about the stupid video game, or Ayano getting so stupidly into it, or stupid Ayano saying she loved her so easily.

And she definitely didn’t get takeout from Ayano’s favorite place because she was thinking about all of that.

And as she walked back to the apartment, it definitely wasn’t all those things together that made her think, _I guess it’s my turn now._

But when she got home and Ayano took the food and kissed her cheek and gave her a glass of water and asked how her day had been, all Takane could manage out was, “You’re super lame.”

Ayano just stuck her tongue out and carried the food to the table.

\---

After dinner, as Ayano was cleaning the dishes and Takane wiped down the table and stove, Takane decided to go for it.

“Hey, Ayano?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Ayano froze. Takane focused on scrubbing down that one tiny spot that totally was a stain and had to be removed at that instant.

“Do you love me more than Haruka?”

“What?”

Ayano put down the plate she’d been rinsing and turned around from the sink, and when Takane looked up she was surprised to see the steely look on Ayano’s face, almost determination but too cold to be so. She blinked. Whatever she’d been expecting, this wasn’t it.

“Do you love me more than you loved Haruka?” Ayano’s voice was low, sounding forcibly mild.

Takane narrowed her eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You said you loved me. You told Haruka you loved him too.”

“Haruka’s dead, incase you haven’t noticed-.”

“Being dead doesn’t stop people from loving.”

Ayano had raised her voice, and Takane felt a sick pool of dread beginning to form in her stomach.

“You said I reminded you of him,” Ayano went on when Takane didn’t reply. “You’ve been saying things to me you used to tell him, you keep bringing him up, you’ve been living the same life you wanted to live with him but the only difference is that it’s me who’s here, not Haruka.”

_“I think it’d be really fun. We could play games every day, and eat all our meals together, and when you come back from work I’d get to say ‘welcome home’, and we could watch TV together, and cuddle in bed, and everything!”_

Takane flinched at the memory.

“Do you know who I am?” Ayano demanded, and at any other time it would’ve been a ridiculous question but now Takane was struggling to find the right words to respond. “I love you. I really, truly do. I’ve loved every day I’ve spent with you, good or bad, and I want to believe that you love me too. But in order for me to believe that I have to know.”

 _How did it get to this?_ Takane wondered.

“Am I just a replacement for Haruka to you?”

\---

 _You’re so fucking selfish_ , Shintaro had told her.

Takane couldn’t deny that. She was selfish. She imposed on others, made them take care of her while she could never admit her true feelings. It had taken years for her to confess to Haruka, and all that time she had done nothing but wait for him to notice the emotions she denied the existence of.

When he’d died, it had hurt. There were still things she wanted to do with him. She hadn’t told him she loved him enough times. There were video games to play and movies to watch and so many things to experience with him, and she’d never gotten the chance to, and worse, she hadn’t been there for him when he’d needed her. She’d failed him after all the times he’d been there for her.

Was her life with Ayano just a projection of all the things she’d missed out on doing with Haruka?

That sounded too cruel.

\---

“Everything we’ve done together -- the movies, the games, eating together, sleeping together -- they’re things I’ve done with Haruka, and speaking honestly, if he was still around I would probably still be doing them with him,” Takane spoke slowly.

Ayano’s gaze had dropped to the floor, no change in her expression.

Takane continued, “But he’s gone. And I’ve made new memories with you. And not once have I forgotten that it’s you, Ayano.” She smiled as she remembered. “I love falling asleep with you next to me. I love waking up every morning and seeing you. I love eating your cooking, and sitting with you, and being dumb with you, and coming home to you.”

She began to walk, approaching Ayano as she spoke. “Playing games with you, watching TV with you. Touching you. Kissing you. And right now I can’t imagine a world where I don’t have that.” She grabbed Ayano’s shoulders, forcing the younger woman to lift up her gaze and look at her.

Ayano’s eyes shone with unfallen tears, and Takane swallowed, mentally cursing herself for never noticing how much this had bothered her.

_I’m really the worst upperclassman ever._

She drew her into a hug.

“The experiences we’ve shared and the memories I have with you are real, Ayano. I love them. And I love you.”

She paused when she felt a hesitant squeeze around her waist in return. Relief blossomed, more liberating than anything she’d ever known, and she hugged Ayano even tighter, touching her lips to the woman’s ear and murmuring, “Sorry you had to fall in love with such a dense idiot.”

\---

“That was really lame,” Ayano whispered to her, and Takane pretended not to notice the slight break in her voice, or the wetness on her shirt as Ayano buried her face into her shoulder.

\---

Things were okay again after that.

\---

“You made me cry so you have to finish washing the dishes.”

“What? I just finished cleaning up the rest of everything else-.”

“Takane. Your girlfriend is telling you to finish washing the dishes.”

Takane stopped. Ayano kissed her quickly (was she blushing or was it just the scarf’s reflection?) and then made a hasty retreat to the couch, turning on the TV and pointedly not looking back. It took a couple minutes for Takane to register what had just happened, and then another to start functioning again.

“Oh.” A beat. “ _Oh_.” The corners of her lips quirked upwards and she rubbed the back of her neck, trying not to look too much like a lovesick moron. “Cool.”

\---

Maybe it was selfish, but Takane liked the idea of calling Ayano hers.

“You’re a dork,” Ayano had said when she mentioned it, pulling up her scarf to hide her smile.

Takane kissed her temple and said, in a rare bout of courage, “A dork who’s madly in love with you.”

\---

“You guys seem happy,” Shintaro acknowledged when he came to visit again.

Takane shrugged. Ayano, who was sitting on her lap and hugging one of her arms, practically radiated sunshine.

He prompted, “Consent?”

Takane, red-faced and looking away, and Ayano, still grinning, answered at the same time.

“Consent.”


End file.
